Meeting by Chance
by AreiaCannaid
Summary: Will and Gilan met each other before Will's first Gathering, but neither of them realized it. (Takes place around the time of Gilan's apprenticeship)
1. Chapter 1

**Meeting by Chance**

 **A/N:** Oops, my hand slipped... I don't know where this one came from, it was just a little plot bunny that wouldn't stop pestering me until I put it on paper. This will probably only be about two chapters in length. I hope it proves enjoyable though. Thanks for reading.

 **Summary:** Will and Gilan met each other before Will's first Gathering, but neither of them realized it.

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing: not the amazing world John Flanagan created, nor the characters therein; all I own is my deepest respect and my pencil. Any profit I might get is purely sentimental.

* * *

 **Meeting by Chance**

Gilan was going to be spending the next month doing extra chores and, on top of that, he was quite possibly going to lose his day off at the upcoming harvest festival; Halt hadn't decided yet. All the grizzled Ranger was certain of was that the boy was going to be in serious trouble. His frown deepened. He urged Abelard forwards to keep pace with the servant in castle livery as they made their way along the shadowed road to Castle Redmont.

Halt had suspected that something was up when Gilan hadn't come back before dark. But he hadn't guessed that what had held the boy up was anything like what, he had just been told, had happened. Halt had sent his apprentice to get some meat from the butcher for their supper — and he had been almost two hours late in coming back. Gilan did have a bit of a penchant for getting himself distracted sometimes, but even he wouldn't have gotten distracted for nearly two hours.

In fact, when he hadn't shown up, Halt's first reaction had been worry. Gilan hadn't taken his bow or his sword with him when he left. It was just meant to be a quick trip to Wensly Village, after all. But if he had run into trouble, Halt had known that he wouldn't have anything but his two knives with which to defend himself. Not even that, Halt had realized when he'd seen the two knives in question sitting on the table next to Gilan's whetstone. It appeared that his young apprentice had left in such a hurry that he had forgotten his knives as well.

Halt had then tried to tell himself that running into danger in Wensly Village wasn't all that likely. It was more likely that Gilan had simply gotten himself volunteered into helping one of the villagers — that was what had kept him the only other time he had been late after all. But the grim Ranger had been unable to shake the feeling that something was off. So thinking, he had grabbed his bow and his cloak, which was hanging next to Gilan's — the boy had yet to finish mending it from where he'd torn it on a branch during unseen movement practice earlier in the day — and had headed to the door of his cabin.

He had just reached for the knob when he'd heard Abelard's warning call that someone was approaching. Shortly after, he'd heard rapid hoof beats approaching the cabin. At the sound of a knock on the door, Halt had looked through the spy-hole to see the servant in livery — a man who had been almost incoherent with nerves and excitement. It had taken Halt a while to make any sort of cohesive sense out of him.

Long story short, he'd been informed by that servant that his apprentice had gotten into a fistfight with the sons of a visiting nobleman and was currently in the castle infirmary. The nobleman was furious. Baron Arald had requested Halt's presence immediately.

Halt shook his head and cursed softly as he continued following after the servant. This was Gilan's second year as a Ranger's apprentice, he really knew better…

 **~x~X~x~**

Earlier that day

 **~x~X~x~**

Will counted the seven small coins in his hand for the sixth time that afternoon. He really didn't have to; he knew exactly how many there were. He also knew that their number wasn't suddenly going to change just because he'd looked away. But he couldn't help making doubly sure of them.

It had taken him several weeks of doing odd jobs around the castle, during free time after lessons, to earn the coins. Now he was finally sure that he had enough. It was not a moment too soon; Alyss's birthday was tomorrow.

Not too long ago, one of the ward matrons had taken all the children of the ward to Wensly Village as a treat. Will remembered distinctly that, in the weaver's shop, there had been a beautiful woven bracelet with no less than three Celtic metal beads woven into it. He had noticed how it had caught Alyss's eye, and remembered too that her birthday wasn't far off. The very next day he'd gone to the castle laundry to see if there was need for another worker.

The bracelet's price had been seven coppers…and he had seven now. He touched his finger to each one, moving them slightly in the palm of his other hand, counting them slowly one last time before he placed them in the small drawstring pouch at his side. He nodded to himself.

He shifted slightly to a more comfortable position on the high branch of the tall fig tree in the castle courtyard that he was currently perched on. He was grateful for the thick screen of leaves that surrounded him, offering both shelter and privacy.

The last thing he wanted was for Alyss to discover his plan for her birthday present, or to hear any sort of sarcastic remarks: " _have you forgotten how to count?"_ he remembered one of his ward mates, Horace, asking him scathingly the week before when the bigger boy had caught Will counting and recounting his meager amount of coins.

Will frowned at the thought of Horace, and then brushed the matter from his mind. He had bigger problems to think of at the moment: such as figuring out a way to sneak out of the castle to get that bracelet. The children of Redmont Ward weren't allowed to just leave the castle and wander around without supervision… but that had never really stopped Will in the past.

All sneaking aside, Will supposed that he could always ask one of the matrons if they would escort him to the village; but they were often very busy, and even a little stern. There was no guarantee that they'd say yes — and Alyss's birthday was tomorrow. Besides that, it was something he wanted to do himself. He'd earned all the coins by himself and wanted to be the one to get the bracelet and bring it back all on his own too.

He moved his hands so they were gripping either side of the branch he was sitting on as he thought on how he would make it out of the castle without notice. Try and sneak past the sentries when they weren't looking? Try and climb over the battlements and then down the walls?

He was still puzzling over it when he heard the sound of cartwheels entering the courtyard. He scooted a little further out on his branch and moved a bough slightly so that he could see out. It was a covered cart being pulled by a plow horse. It was probably supplies being delivered to the castle storerooms; and it gave him an idea.

About two hours later, the wagon trundled out of the castle walls, empty of supplies but not entirely empty. Will peeked out between the back flaps of canvas that covered the wagon's top. He watched the red walls of Castle Redmont growing steadily further away.

The driver slowed a little as the cart trundled over the removable bridge that spanned the Tarbus River. Will prepared himself. Once they passed the bridge, the road forked; one branch headed towards the farmlands and the other headed towards Wensly Village.

They crossed the bridge and Will leaped off the back of the moving wagon, landing a little awkwardly. He stumbled, trying desperately to keep his footing. He only just managed it. He ducked behind a nearby bush until the wagon was out of sight. Then he set off down the road to Wensley Village, grinning at his success.

He headed happily down the street, half walking, half skipping, taking in the sight of the bustling lively village of people going about their daily business. He smiled at a few people he passed and, for the most part, they smiled back. All the while he was scanning the street, looking for the weaver's shop.

He eventually found it. The door was wide open so he stepped inside, heading towards where he had last seen the bracelet hanging on display. He had a momentary fear that perhaps someone might have already purchased it during the past couple of weeks. He let out a sigh of relief; it was still there.

The woman who ran the shop smiled pleasantly as she saw Will.

"Looking for something in particular?" she asked and he nodded.

"I wanted to buy that bracelet," he said eagerly, pointing to the article of jewelry in question.

"For you?" the weaver asked impishly as she took the bracelet down from where it had been on display and placed it on the counter between them. She had to look over the edge to speak with him; the counter was taller than he was.

Will looked surprised by the question for a moment before he laughed, shaking his head. "No, for my friend Alyss. It's her birthday tomorrow."

"Oh, so it's for a special lady is it?" the weaver asked, then added as an aside, "that'll be seven coppers."

Will thought about that for a moment as he reached for the coppers. Then he nodded again as he passed them up to the woman. "I guess she is a special friend. We've been friends for…well, for forever," he divulged. "I've been saving for a long time to get it for her."

The weaver handed him the woven band and then, taken in by his large, bright, eager brown eyes and sweet and friendly manner, she cut him a length of pretty ribbon.

"Go down the road a ways and see if you can't find some pretty wildflowers for your friend." she winked at Will. "Girls love that sort of thing."

"They do?" Will asked.

"They do; trust me," the weaver said. "You can tie the bouquet with this ribbon. Then, when the flowers fade, she can use the ribbon for her hair."

"Alright then," Will said, smiling at the woman. "Thank you," he added as he practically dashed outside, intent on finding flowers.

It was sunset when Will started heading back towards Wensly Village so that he could take the main road to Redmont Caslte. In his hand he held the flowers that he had gathered in the surrounding fields and woods. All he could think as he walked was of how pleased Alyss was going to be. Alyss had always been his very best friend and he wanted so badly to find a tangible way to show it. He couldn't wait to see her face when he gave her the bracelet that she had wanted, along with the ribbon and flowers. He felt an unreasoning sense happiness and expectancy and it lightened his steps.

It was because of this that, when he passed the group of four boys loitering by the roadside, he did nothing but smile pleasantly. He wasn't immediately worried when the boys nudged, smiled and whispered to each other as they gestured in his direction. They detached themselves from the trees they had been leaning against to move towards him, surrounding him and cutting off his path.

Will stopped in his tracks, still smiling, but now there was a little impatience in the expression; the weaver had warned him to put the flowers in some water as quickly as possible after picking them. He didn't want to give Alyss wilted flowers.

"Hello," he said to the four boys none the less.

"Hello," they said back; although, the way they were crowding into his space was starting to make an uneasy feeling rise up in his stomach.

"We've seen you before, at Redmont Castle, haven't we?" the tallest one asked. "You're one of fat Baron Arald's ward brats."

Will's eyes widened slightly at the boy's daring and nerve to speak ill of the Baron and then looked closer at them. He realized that they were right; he had indeed seen them before. They were the sons of a visiting nobleman. He had come across them a few times in passing around the castle. There were four of them. The youngest was about twelve or thirteen and the oldest was probably around sixteen or seventeen. The middle two were twins.

All of them were dressed in fine clothes and Will could discern in them a lofty sort of attitude that he'd seen in a few nobles when they were faced with peasants. None of the nobles of Redmont had it, but several castle visitors over the years had. Before Will could even nod in response to the oldest one's query, he spoke on.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was running an errand," Will replied, friendly enough, despite his new sense of wariness. Then, when the boys showed no sign of letting him go on his way, he added, "please, I have to get back."

"Hear that? He has to get back," one of the twins said, sneeringly.

"Don't let us stand in your way," the other twin added.

"We have to go back to Redmont ourselves," the oldest said then. "Why don't we walk with you; we wouldn't want you to run into any _trouble_."

"No we wouldn't." the youngest one put in sibilantly. "That would be… _dishonorable_."

Then he caught Will by the shoulder, before he could protest, and moved him along with his elder siblings. Will was fully wary and uncomfortable now. He didn't know what it was that these boys wanted, but he was certain that they didn't mean well towards him. They had him completely hemmed in. There was also a hint of malice in their manner that was ringing alarm bells in his mind.

"Let me see those," the oldest son said suddenly, gesturing towards Will's bouquet of flowers.

Will didn't want to give them to him; but, surrounded and pressed in on as he was, he realized that he didn't have much choice in the matter. What could he do? If he was a mighty knight like his father had been, he would have no trouble… but he wasn't a knight — yet — and there wasn't anything he could really do but comply. Reluctantly, he passed them over.

The oldest son snatched them. They all stopped moving forwards as he looked the flowers over. Then he removed the ribbon from the bundle and let the flowers drop to the ground where he promptly stomped on them, grinding the delicate petals into the dirt of the path.

"Oops," he said, taking the ribbon and ripping it along its length then tossing it to land on the crushed flowers.

Will's cry of protest was lost as one of the twins shoved him so hard that he fell, sprawling awkwardly on the ground. Will stared at the ruined flowers and ribbon in horror; but the boys weren't finished yet. The youngest caught sight of the woven bracelet that Will was clutching desperately in his left hand. He grabbed Will's wrist and twisted until he let go.

"What's this?" he sneered. "A bracelet for you girlfriend?"

"Give it back!" Will cried desperately, holding his throbbing wrist and getting to his feet — only to be pushed down again.

"A peasant like you doesn't need a fancy bracelet like this," he said, passing it to his oldest sibling.

"Especially not since all a pathetic ward brat like you can do is live off the generosity of your betters… like a leech," a twin added.

"Too girly for me," the eldest said of the bracelet, drawing his small knife from his belt.

"Don't!" Will yelled, leaping to his feet again and grabbing at the oldest boy's arm.

It was too late. Will saw his bracelet — the bracelet he had spent weeks working to earn, the bracelet that Alyss had wanted so badly — cut into rough pieces to lie, mud-stained, near the ruined remnants of Alyss's other presents.

Will knelt near them and felt the beginnings of tears start to build in his eyes as he stared at the ruins of all his hard work, of his careful plans, his hopes of making Alyss happy, of giving her the best birthday and birthday present she had ever had. It had all just slipped through his fingers like sand: all because of a senseless display of cruelty and malice. And all those _so called_ nobles could do about it was laugh — the sound grated in his ears as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Is the worthless ward brat going to cry?" one of the boys sneered.

Will couldn't see which one had said it, but he no longer cared. All he wanted was to get away. But it was obvious that the bullies weren't about to let that happen. Will clenched his teeth, feeling a slow coal of anger burning amidst the sorrow and pain. If they weren't going to let him go, it would be better to go down fighting; that was what his father would have done, what a true knight would do. He was certain of that.

One of the boys reached towards him. Will swatted their hand away as he rose to his feet, throwing himself at the youngest son. His only thought being to try and fight his way through the weakest part of their ring and escape.

The success of his attack didn't last very long. The youngest son was much bigger and stronger than he was, and more skilled. Will's best advantage, his speed and agility, didn't help him much when he was trapped by their ring. He was struck by nasty blow to the face. He felt his lip split and he reeled, his vision exploding with stars. He lay on the ground, stunned.

"Pathetic little rat tried to attack me," the youngest son snarled indignantly.

"We should teach him his place… and maybe next time he'll remember it," one of the twins sneered.

Will tired to back away, but there was nowhere to back away to. His eyes widened in fear as the other twin took out a riding crop from his belt and moved forwards. Will tried to shield himself and then cried out in pain as the boy hit him with the crop across the arms and chest. The three quick but forceful blows stung badly and Will felt more tears building in his eyes. The twin brought the crop up for another hit and Will found he couldn't look away.

Then, suddenly, the twin stopped mid-blow as he was interrupted by an almost cheerful sounding voice.

"What's going on here?" it asked.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks again for reading! The next chapter should be up in a few days if all goes well. I wish you all an amazing day!

 **Side Note:** I have come to the conclusion, over the course of the RA books and the fourth and fifth books of the Brotherband Chronicles, that Gilan is probably about only about five year older than Will (nine at the very upper limit)... I may be wrong, of course; Gilan's age had never been specifically specified. But in the Brotherband book Slaves of Scorro, which takes place _after_ Horace and Cassandra are married, Gilan is "not yet thirty himself", so he cant be all that more than five years older for that to be true. So that's what I had in mind when I wrote this. That said, I don't think its too far fetched for the two of them to have, sort of, come across one another by chance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

 **A/N:** Oh my goodness, I didn't expect such a positive response. Thank you guys for all the feedback, and for reading. I really appreciate it. Here's the last chapter, I really hope it doesn't disappoint. Thanks again!

 **Guest:** I think that makes most sense too, I've heard some say that he's about 10 years older, but I just can't see it myself. Thank you for your review and kind words, I appreciate it!

 **PFT3000:** Here's the second part! I really hope that this is fast enough to keep you from dying XD Sorry for making you wait :) and thanks for the review and the compliment.

 **Little Wishlet:** Well, though I might not work it out so that that he'll be able to get Alyss a new bracelet, I do think I've found a way to fix the situation a little bit. I agree, I think both she and Will deserve at least that much. Thank you for the review.

 **Lala the Screaming Fangirl** : Yay for imagining the same things! I'm glad you think it's plausible, I was a little worried about that. Thank you for the review!

Also, special thanks to: **darth picard** , **Nickve** , **MattivanLoo** , **hope4mustangs** and **TrustTheCloak** ; you guys totally made my day with your kind reviews. Thanks so much for the support!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

The nobleman's sons and Will turned towards the newcomer. Will couldn't see much of him in the growing dark of twilight, but he could see that he was tall, slim, and young—maybe around fifteen or so. He was dressed simply, like a forester. His clothing, as well as his manner, contrasted starkly with the four young nobles. He carried a smallish bundle over his shoulder, which he lowered to the ground as he faced the nobleman's sons. Most likely, he had been running an errand in the village. Will didn't really care, he was just glad that he was here and that he had stopped instead of just continuing past.

"What's going on?" the newcomer asked again when he received no answer.

"It's none of your business," the eldest son said darkly.

"I don't know about that," the newcomer said lightly and then turned his head in Will's direction. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Of course he's alright," the youngest son said. "We were just having fun."

"It wasn't you I was asking," the newcomer said, his tone still light and cheerful. "And if that's true, he should be able to answer for himself. How about it? Are you alright?" he asked Will again.

Will shook his head desperately. Then he realized that the other boy might not be able to see that motion in the growing dark. He tried to speak but all that came out was a squeak. He tried again.

"N-no," he managed. _'No I'm not;_ _please help me,'_ he wanted to say, but all that came out was that one fragmented word.

"I think you should leave him alone," the newcomer said quietly to the nobleman's sons as soon as Will gave his answer. Some of the levity had left the tone of his voice.

"Listen you," the youngest son snarled, stepping towards the interfering boy and jabbing a finger at him. "We don't know who you think you are and we don't care what you think. This has nothing to do with you. This boy is _our_ business and if you keep pressing, we will make _you_ our business too. Best you get on your way and forget you saw anything."

The new boy seemed to digest that statement for a moment. His attention moved from one sibling to the other, taking in their imposing, threatening, stances and expressions. Then the boy seemed to understand. He hesitated momentarily as he considered his position.

"Oh…oh, I see... or I mean…see what exactly? I didn't see anything at all," he said then, tapping his forehead with his right index finger in a knowing and conspiratorial gesture.

Will felt his heart begin to sink; the boy was too afraid to help…but, then again, maybe not.

"Good choice," the youngest was starting to say as he followed the motion of new boy's right hand with his gaze. But it only came out as, "Go-aoof!" as the new boy struck forwards with his left hand without warning and with blinding speed. It slammed into the youngest's jaw. His eyes rolled up and then he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

The cheerful attitude was completely gone from new arrival's manner. He faced the others coldly. His sudden demeanor change and lightning fast reaction, made the other boys hesitate for a moment; before they remembered that it was still three against one and that they had been training as knights. They had just decided to attack when Will's unexpected ally beat them too it, moving forward quickly to engage the remaining three, keeping the momentum of the fight with him.

"Best you get out of here!" he called mildly to Will, breaking the frozen revelry that he'd been in, galvanizing him into action.

Will's eyes darted around frantically and then fell upon a nearby pine tree. With the agility of a squirrel, he shinnied up it and then peered out between the needles and branches to watch the scene below with wide eyes.

His rescuer was holding his own fairly well against the three remaining boys. He and the oldest were trading blows. As Will watched, the boy swept his arm across his body to deflect the oldest son's roundhouse blow and brought the heel of his hand up and into the eldest's nose. Blood flowed freely down older boy's face as his head shot back. But, before he could even recover, Will's ally kicked forwards, planting his booted foot straight into his opponent's stomach and sending him flying backwards, gasping for breath. He crashed to the ground as Will's ally whirled, just in time, to block a blow from one of the twins who had been coming at him from behind.

Will's friend jabbed forward with two devastating straight punches of his own. The twin staggered back. The boy then dropped low, just missing getting hit from behind by the other twin. While he was down low, he scythed the second twin's legs out from under him. The twin hit the ground, his breath leaving him in a soft whoosh of air. Then Will's ally turned his attention back to the first twin.

While all this was happening, Will saw eldest son finally catch his breath again and rise to his feet, his face contorted with rage. He cast about himself for a moment and then headed towards a large heavy branch that had fallen during a recent storm. He seized it and then ran forwards, holding it as if it were a war hammer, intending to strike Will's ally from behind.

"Look out!" Will cried.

He saw his friend turn from where he was grappling with one of the twins and register the danger. He tried to leap to the side, but his foot landed in a rut. The graceful leap he had planned turned into an awkward stumble. He fell just as the eldest brother's heavy stick came crashing down. It narrowly missed Will's ally and instead hit his own brother square in the arm. There came a sickening crunching sound and the twin fell to the ground, screaming in pain and clutching his obviously broken limb.

The eldest brother gaped in shock at what he'd just done and let the stick drop from his fingers. The second twin, however, had taken advantage of his opponent's stumble and had sized him from behind before he could regain his stance or balance. Will saw his friend struggling in the twin's grasp, but his efforts were to no avail.

The oldest turned then, his face red with fury.

"I will make you pay for this, for what you've done!" he snarled. "Hold him still!"

The twin's grip tightened further as the oldest charged forwards. Will winced as his friend was struck with two vicious blows to the face. The boy had tried to doge but there hadn't been much he could to avoid the blows, held as he was. The oldest son stepped back a little and Will could dimly see dark blood running down his ally's face, his head lolling slightly, as if in a partial daze. The boy shook his head in an attempt to clear it.

"I am going to make you bleed," the eldest son snarled, drawing the small knife at his side.

Will looked frantically around for some way to help. Then he saw it. The eldest was lifting up the knife to strike when he was hit by a sudden hail of rock hard green pinecones from the tree that had been concealing Will.

The momentary hesitation allowed Will's ally the chance he needed—only his arms were being held, after all. He kicked upwards, his booted foot connecting heavily with the oldest son's knife hand. The blow caused him to lose his grip on the weapon. But, before he could even focus on the sudden pain, Will's ally kicked him in the chest, knocking him backwards to the ground. He then brought his foot down hard on the instep of the twin's foot and twisted. The twin screamed and let go slightly, enough for Will's ally to elbow him in the face. The bully crumpled to the ground.

By then, the oldest had again risen to his feet and threw himself at Will's friend. The two tumbled to the ground and rolled as they grappled. Will's ally landed on top of the other, pinning him down.

It was then that the knight and his four men rode down the shadowed path. Neither Will nor the fighting boys had heard or seen his approach. The knight had seen and heard them though, and he was none other than the visiting nobleman. He dismounted to take in the chaotic scene before him. When he made out the figures of all his sons lying crumpled on the ground, he let out a bellow of rage and charged Will's friend, knocking him off his eldest son with a devastating blow to his eye and cheek with his gauntleted hand; he tumbled to the ground, stunned.

Will watched helplessly as the nobleman and his knights then rode off, back in the direction of Redmont Castle, with his sons…and with the boy who had risked himself to protect Will. Will climbed down from the tree, staring after the disappearing knights. He bit his lip.

That boy had probably saved him and now he was going to be in big trouble for it. When it came time to explain, everyone would probably believe the young nobles first, he knew. To make it worse, their word would be four against one. Somehow Will knew those bullies wouldn't tell the truth. Will's ally wouldn't stand a chance. They would all think that he had just attacked without reason.

Will didn't know what the punishment was for attacking noblemen, but he knew it wasn't good. They'd send him off to the dungeons somewhere and lock him up or make him work in the fields…probably. Will bit his lip, he couldn't let that happen to him, it wasn't fair.

He felt a knot of tension grow in his stomach. He had to do something, had to find a way to help the boy in return, he thought. He bent down to scoop up the sorry remains of Alyss's birthday gifts and tucked them into his tunic. Then he moved to follow after the mounted knights as fast as he could manage with his slightly limping pace and aching body.

All the while his mind whirled as he tried to think of a way to help, any way to help. Then it came to him. He had to get to the Baron and tell him the truth of what had happened. In that moment, he didn't even care that he might get into trouble for leaving the castle without permission. This was more important than that.

 **~x~X~x~**

Halt followed the servant into the castle infirmary. He stopped just inside the door frame, his eyes scanning the room until they found the figure he sought. Gilan was sitting on the edge of one of the beds that lined the walls. He had all the appearance of having been in a fight. One eye was blackened and swollen almost completely shut. The cheek below it was marked with a gash crested bruise. His lips and chin were encrusted with dried and drying blood from both his nose and a spit in his lower lip. His hands, especially his knuckles, were slightly bruised and bloodied, and his forearms were marked with some defensive and offensive bruises as well.

Halt let out his breath in an exasperated sigh, running his hands over his face, as he took it all in. He felt the rush of anger momentarily replaced by a sudden urge to go to the boy and check him over carefully, but he suppressed it, crossing his arms as he stepped forwards.

As he came fully into the room he saw why the healer hadn't gotten to Gilan yet. She was still busy with the last of the four boys in the beds that lined the other side of the room. Halt assumed that these were the nobleman's sons. Two of the other three were lying down and the last had his arm splinted and set in a boneset trough so that the resin that had been spread over the thick bandages could set and harden.

Halt looked back at Gilan, who was looking fairly decent, all things considered and when compared to the sorry state of the other four boys, and raised an eyebrow slightly. There was also something else—and that something immediately grabbed his attention. That something was Gilan's body posture. He was sitting upright, his head up and his jaw set.

Halt's eyebrows rose slightly. That was interesting. If Gilan was aware that he'd made a mistake, acted recklessly or stupidly, his body language would be completely different, Halt knew. This thought was only compounded by the fact that the stubborn posture did not change as Gilan caught sight of his mentor. He winced and reddened slightly with embarrassment, but he did not drop the determined set to his body or jaw. That told Halt that, for whatever reason, he didn't consider himself to be in the wrong, and he certainly wasn't the least bit sorry.

Halt made his way towards the youth. He stopped only when he was standing directly in front of him and said only one word.

"Explain."

Gilan flushed further, hesitated, and then opened his mouth to speak. However, before he could even say anything, he was interrupted by the older boy sitting in the bed across from him.

"Oh, Ranger," the oldest of the nobleman's sons said, noticing Halt's presence for the first time. His words slurred a little nasally as he tried to speak through swollen lips and a possibly broken nose. "I am so very glad to see you. This peasant," he gestured at Gilan, "ambushed and attacked my brothers and I on the road without the slightest provocation. No doubt he was consumed with jealously over our noble bearing. It's regrettable, but I've seen it before," he said in the emphatic manner of one who considers himself to be an expert in such matters.

Halt saw Gilan's expression turn flat at the obvious and completely ridiculous lie as he stared coolly at the youth across from him. The nobleman's son affected not to notice as he continued addressing Halt.

"I'm sure my brothers and I will have your full support in this matter," he said airily, "and that you will help in taking the proper actions against our cowardly attacker."

Halt didn't seem to deem that spiel worthy of a reply. He dismissed the overblown youth entirely and turned back to Gilan.

"What happened?" he asked gruffly, the anger and disapproval obvious in his voice.

The anger cooled a little as Gilan explained, though not fully. His young apprentice had gotten himself in to a potentially messy conflict—since it involved the sons of a very high ranking man who was currently a guest of the Baron. What made it worse was the fact that those sons had already shown Halt they had a propensity for spinning tales. Needless to say, this wasn't exactly how Halt had planned to spend his evening—and the next few days, if this were to get messy.

"What about the boy?"

"He got away," Gilan replied.

"Do you know who or where he is?" and, when Gilan shook his head, Halt added, "or what he looked like?"

If this were to culminate in any sort of trial requiring proof, which might well happen considering the tenuous situation, having the boy as a witness would be helpful.

But Gilan shook his head again. "It was dark, Halt," he said apologetically. "I never got a good look at him. He was small, and had… dark hair, I think." He frowned. "That's all I can tell you."

Halt frowned thoughtfully. Gilan had said the nobleman's sons had been beating the boy; perhaps, if it was needed, he could ask the village healers about it. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the servant who had brought him here nervously clearing his throat.

"May I remind you, sir, that the Baron has requested your presence—as soon as possible."

"You might," Halt said, his tone conveying the message that he would leave when he was ready and not a moment sooner. Then he relented a little at the servant's distressed and anxious manner. "Lead the way," he said finally, sighing slightly as he gestured towards the man, and then followed after him.

Halt pushed open the iron bound door to Arald's study a short while later. The Baron was sitting behind his heavy desk. Sir Rodney was standing to the side of and a little behind the Baron. Standing in front of the desk was the man that Halt assumed to be the visiting nobleman by his clothing and bearing. It was an assumption that was fully confirmed when he heard what it was the man was saying.

"I want that boy severely punished!" the man was practically yelling. "Have you not seen what he did to my sons?"

"Halt," Arald said in greeting when he caught sight of him, interrupting the noble's tirade, "we were waiting for you. Come in please."

"Ranger." The nobleman and Rodney inclined their heads respectfully, and Halt returned the gesture.

"As you can see," Arald said, gesturing around himself, his expression serious, "we have a little bit of a situation on our hands here. Did you have the chance to find out anything?"

"I spoke to the boys," Halt nodded. "The oldest son says that Gilan waited in ambush for them by the roadside and attacked them without cause," he said flatly. "But Gilan says that the other boys were bullying and beating a younger boy. He stepped in to protect that boy when they refused to stop."

Arald nodded thoughtfully as he digested this information. Halt saw immediately that Arald already found the second explanation much more plausible than the first. The nobleman saw it too and protested.

"Gilan is the name of the boy who attacked my sons? You would believe the word of a mere peasant over that of my sons?" he demanded indignantly. "That's utterly ridiculous! I will not stand for this! To simply accept the word of some random peasant is disgraceful! This Gilan boy is nothing but a lying coward and I would see him punished for his actions."

"Gilan isn't just some peasant, as you put it," Halt said slowly, fully irritated by the man's pompous manner. In his opinion, a person's social standing had little to do with the measure of their honesty. "He's the son of Sir David of Caraway fief. That alone should put his word on equal standing with your sons'."

The overblown nobleman seemed totally surprised by that revelation.

"That boy is the son of Sir David?" he asked incredulously.

"And he isn't just that," Halt added, "he's also a Ranger's apprentice…my apprentice. I'd take his word over that of a nobleman any day."

"Apprentice or no he could still be lying! And the word is still four against one!" the nobleman blustered onward.

"I could always go and get the truth if that would satisfy you," Halt said then, his voice low and dangerous.

It made the nobleman take an unconscious step backwards before his face darkened further with anger. Baron Arlad raised a hand for silence, shooting Halt a warning look. Everyone present fell silent as they waited for the Baron to speak. But, before Arald could even open his mouth, there came the sound of a timid knock at the door.

"Enter," Arald said after a pause.

The door cracked open slowly. The Baron looked at the empty space revealed by it and then looked downwards. He caught sight of the tousled brown hair and brown eyes of one of the young boys from the ward.

"Will, isn't it?" the Baron said and the small boy nodded nervously.

"Yes si — um... my lord," he said shifting uncomfortably as he hesitated in the doorway, trying to gather his nerve. "Could I speak to you please? It's really important," he blurted.

"It might have to wait Will," the Baron said, not unkindly, "I have a situation I'm dealing with at the moment.

Will's eyes flicked from the Baron to the other obvious nobleman in the room and then widened slightly with recognition.

"But this has to do with that!" he said, then flushed, hopping uncomfortably from one foot to the other. "Um… I mean that if this is about the fight then this has to do with that."

Baron Arald's eyebrows rose at that.

"Indeed?" he asked and Will nodded.

The Baron motioned him forwards then and Will obliged.

"Well then, let's hear it," Arald said.

 **~x~X~x~**

Will was sitting cross-legged on his bed. It had been a fairly nerve-raking experience to tell the Baron what had happened, especially when he had finally noticed that the Ranger Halt had been in the room too. The secretive Ranger had always made Will a little nervous.

After he had told his story though, the Baron had assured him that everything would be taken care of. He had sent him back to the Ward and then had sent word for the healer to come tend to him as soon as she was finished with the other boys. Will was relieved that the whole ordeal was over, and glad that the boy who had tried to save him wasn't going to get in trouble, but he wasn't really glad for himself.

He stared despondently at the sorry remains of Alyss's birthday present. The ribbon and bracelet were completely ruined and there was perhaps only one flower that was slightly less battered than the others. He wrapped his arms around his knees, feeling tears beginning to prickle behind his eyes. That one limp flower was probably the only thing out of the lot that was still salvageable.

Will hurt. The healer had tended his bruises and welts, cut, and twisted wrist, but everything was still sore. The hurt ran deeper than his few injuries thorough. Everything was ruined. Alyss was going to be so disappointed. He placed his bowed head in his hands and closed his eyes miserably, feeling a solitary tear drip down his face and off the end of his nose. He didn't hear the door opening and the person approaching him until she spoke.

"Will?" Alyss said softly, clambering up to sit beside him. "I heard there was some sort of fight and that you were hurt…are you alright?" she asked, putting her hand on his shoulder. When he raised his head to look at her, she was a little taken aback by the sadness in his brown eyes.

"I'm sorry Alyss," he said, sniffing slightly.

"Sorry for what?" she asked, surprised. As far as she saw, he had no need to apologize to her.

"I had planned to help give you the best birthday celebration ever tomorrow," he said sadly, gesturing at the messy heap in front of him. "I earned the money to get you the bracelet you wanted; and even got you a hair ribbon and some flowers...but then those boys ruined it all."

"What boys?" Alyss asked and then listened while Will explained what had happened.

"I ruined your birthday," Will concluded, sniffing again. "I'm sorry."

"No you didn't," Alyss said, pulling him into a light hug. "I love your gifts," she said, reaching for the ruined pile. "This flower is still pretty," she pointed out, picking up the only slightly battered blossom and putting it in her hair, "and you saved the beads on the bracelet—which were my favorite part. Jenny knows how to do some tricky braids, maybe we can braid the beads into the ribbon pieces and make a new bracelet," she said, scooping them up.

"Really," Will asked hopefully, brightening a little.

"Really," Alyss assured him.

"Well…that's alright then," he said, the despondent look finally fading away completely.

Alyss smiled. She would have stayed longer but the ward matrons called that it was time for lights out.

"Thank you Will," Alyss said, waving slightly to him as she left. "I hope you feel better soon."

Will waved back, feeling a wide smile spread across his face for the first time that night.

 **~x~X~x~**

Gilan chewed absently on his thumbnail as he stared after his mentor's retreating figure from where he lay, feeling troubled. Halt had always been grim but, ever since they had left the castle, he had seemed even more so. He had hardly spoken a word on the whole way back, or when he had helped Gilan settle in: the healer had given Halt a whole market's list of obvious instructions and warnings before she had let Halt take him back to the cabin after all. Under normal circumstances, Gilan might have found it funny—but he hadn't this time.

Halt had been decidedly angry ever since he'd come back from his meeting with the Baron, Gilan could see it in his eyes. Despite Gilan's penchant for pranks, good-natured mischief, and shooting back sarcasm, he genuinely wanted Halt's approval, wanted it more than anything. The thought that he was the cause of Halt's anger, that he had let his mentor down somehow or disappointed him was an unpleasant one to say the least.

A further unpleasant thought occurred to him and Gilan sat up suddenly, pulling off the herbal compress that had been on his face and holding it loosely in his hand so it wouldn't fall.

"Halt," he began uncertainly, "can I ask you something?"

"You just did," the grizzled Ranger said, but he stopped and turned around to face him none the less.

Gilan took that as permission to continue. He shifted uncomfortably.

"Did I… did I do the right thing?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, I thought I had, but you seem angry."

Halt put the compress back over the boy's eye and cheek as he pushed him gently back against the pillows.

There was a moment of silence before Halt spoke, "I'm not angry at you. You did what you could with what you had. I don't think anyone faults you for it, least of all me, and certainly not the boy you saved."

Gilan visibly relaxed, the doubt in his good eye fading steadily away. "That nobleman and his sons might fault me, just a little bit," he replied, his mouth tilting slightly up at the corners.

Halt glared at his young apprentice. "That makes us even because I certainly fault them." He shook his head then slightly. "No, if you made any sort of mistake, it happened before you even left the cabin," he said meaningfully.

Gilan's expression fell slightly; he knew what the mistake had been. "By leaving my weapons behind. If I'd had them, it wouldn't have ended so badly."

Halt nodded, his own expression stern. "It's always best to be prepared, to expect that you're going to run into trouble—even in a place as quiet as Wensly. That way you'll be ready if any does come, and only disappointed if it doesn't." Halt told him. "You left in such a hurry that you didn't think ahead."

Gilan's shoulders slumped slightly. "You're right, Halt; I'm sorry. It wont happen again."

Halt nodded as he recognized the sincerity in the boy's words. He put a hand on his apprentice's shoulder. "Get some sleep; you have training bright and early in the morning." Halt raised a hand to forestall any protest. "No buts. We're not putting it off just because you decided it would be a good idea to take the night off and play around with the nobleman's sons."

"It was hardly playing," Gilan said. "That implies that somebody was actually having fun."

"You never know," Halt replied dryly, "just because you weren't having fun absorbing punches doesn't mean the nobleman's sons weren't having fun passing them out."

The apprentice glared at his teacher with his one good eye at that. "That wasn't exactly how it went, you know. I'd like to think I gave just as good as I got; and I'm pretty sure the nobleman's sons weren't enjoying themselves either... at least I certainly hope they weren't." Then he couldn't keep up the glare any longer. His good eye crinkled at the corners as a wide but slightly crooked smile—on account of his sore face—and its accompanying laugh broke through his former serious expression.

Halt allowed himself the barest ghost of a smile in return. "Get some rest," he repeated as he turned to leave; he still had something he needed to see to.

Later that night, Halt ghosted into Redmont Castle, then into the Ward, and finally into the boy's dormitory. There he stopped, unwilling to leave until he was certain that young Will was alright and had been well cared for; he nodded once to himself when he saw that he had been. Halt had promised Will's father that he would always look out for the boy and he intended to keep that promise.

The next morning, Will woke to find a small bouquet of wildflowers by his bedside. Later, when he asked his friends and ward mates about it, none of them took credit for it. But he was grateful nonetheless. There was something cheering about waking up to the sight of flowers after a difficult day, he thought—doubly cheering when you shared those flowers with your best friend on her birthday.

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks again for reading! I hope this proved to be an enjoyable diversion and it all seemed in character and plausible. I wish you all a brilliant rest of the week!

 **~ATGTJ~**


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